


Serenity

by Herodia



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, F/F, Femslash February, Lesbian Sex, Minor Character Death, Old Testament Style Bridal Succession, Singing, Vaginal Fingering, pun intended
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 11:39:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17703632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herodia/pseuds/Herodia
Summary: Post GZ, Amanda visits her brother in a hospital and encounters Paz.





	Serenity

Since the first civilisations took its roots in the ancient cities, there were philosophers that claimed that time was not relevant. That it did not exist. Which made coming too late impossible.

It would be foolish to blame oneself for such a thing then.

How can you come late when the time does not exist.

The truth is none of these men had ever left the comfort of their privileged homes. They barely saw the misery of the people.

They never fought on their own. If time does not exist, why does it play such an important role on the battlefield?

If time does not exist why did she still felt the guilt of being  too late. Especially when there was no reason for her to blame herself. She had no say in his choices, as futile as they were. They were his, not hers. His timing. His naivety. His silly motivation. Once she would call these mistakes of a child. But her time in the mountains taught her, that there was no such a thing. Every mistake a child would do, a man would do too. Especially when it came to fighting for what they thought they loved.

It took all her strength to keep her eyes on him. While at the same time she could not look away. She watched his chest move in an unstable breath and it filled her with feeling a leader shouldn't have.

There won’t be much more time for him. She knew. The hospital personnel did too. It showed on the dust covered machine they put him on. It showed on the holes a needle left in his arm when a nurse, trembling in hurry, missed his vein three times.

She laid her hand over it, as if she could heal the harm. As if she could heal any of it. His skin was cold. But it shouldn’t surprise her. The blanket they gave him was way too thin to warm, but was thick enough to hide him from sight, when the time came.

She felt like a coward. She knew what was going to happen, but she was too weak to even think of it.

They said that sometimes people in coma remained conscious inside. That there was something in them still aware of their surroundings.

He used to like folk songs. The rhythmic ones with meaning behind them. They were often elegies **.**

It fitted now. But she had no heart to sing his favourite.

 _“_ Where have all the flowers gone?  
 _Long time passing_  
 _Where have all the flowers gone?_ _  
_ _Long time ago_ ”

She was never a great singer, just a passing one. What else to want.

 _“_ Young girls picked them every one  
 _When will they ever learn?  
_ When will they ever learn?”

In Europe the soldiers were buried in fields. Where poppies and daisies grew over their graves. Her men were lucky if a mushroom grew over theirs. There was no beauty to find in death around here.

 _“_ Where have all the young girls gone?  
Long time ago  
 _Where have all the young girls gone?_ ”

“Gone to young men every one  
When will they ever learn?!

_"When will they ever learn?”_

A voice joined.

_“Where have all the young men gone?  
_ _Long time ago”_

She sang better than Amanda did. But it still was only passing. But passing proved enough to trick a man’s mind.

_“Where have all the young men gone?  
_ _They are all in uniform.”_

She tricked them all.

_“When will they ever learn?  
_ _When will they ever learn?”_

The song was meant for the soldiers dying in the Great War and was later sang for ones of Second World War.

_“Where have all the soldiers gone?  
_ _Long time ago”_

The original song was about ukrainian Cossacks and their wifes.

_“Where have all the soldiers gone?  
_ _Gone to graveyards every one”_

None of them were guerillas. Some might be partisans, but not guerillas. It was still nice to pretend their war was as important to the world as their.

_“When will they ever learn?  
_ _When will they ever learn?”_

“I’m sorry Amanda.” She said.

The song was not over yet.

Her voice was as charming as ever. Low and girlish. No mark of what had happened to her could be heard in it. She used to adore it. Adore the innocente in it. Those feelings were gone now.

“Don’t.” She said coldly, turning to the girl.

_The woman._

In all definitions of the word she indeed was a woman. She was not 16. She was not a peace angel and she no longer looked like one. Her beautiful hair was gone, her head was shaved, her face was covered in bruises and cuts. The gown she wore was soaked red, where it stuck on her stomach. Ruining its flowery pattern. Some of the stains had already darkened. Black as her soul one would say. But Amanda refused to believe in black and white scheme.

“I don't need your apologies.”

Paz was silent for a moment.

“Did they tell you?” She asked. It was the very question Amanda didn’t want to hear.

She took a deep breath to clean her mind.

They told her, but she secretly wished they didn’t. She had to hear it as a leader, but she wished they treated her as a sister instead. Same as Fidel didn’t tell Aleida about Che Guevara’s severed hands, she wished they didn’t tell her what happened in the Camp Omega.

Paz did many things wrong, Amanda knew, but she couldn't blame her for this one. She was the victim. Just as she always claimed to be.

“I heard the tapes.” She said simply, as if her mind didn’t mourn.

“Amanda-"

“Just don't.” She felt tears in the corners of her eyes. It was wrong for a leader to cry, even over the lost comrades. She wished she could swallow her tears, just as one swallows the sobs. Stop them before they show. “I don't need your apologies.” The words came to her more like a reflex than a voice of reason. “I understand that, you did all you could.” She squeezed the small hand. She did understand.

There was silence for a while, the tension of her words surrounded them both. There was nothing to distract her from it, but a sound of a hard breathing, occasional sobs, screams and laugh that sounded from rest of the hospital. The walls were thin.

She spoke, but only to get rid of the terrible feeling, that silence seemed to feed.

“Did you know, when they first captured Chico, I was prepared to risk his life rather than let him fall into the enemy’s hands.” She put his hand back under the blanket, as if it could really warm him. Or as if warmth could help take away the water that filled his lungs. “I knew that he wouldn't stand the torture, it was clear, that sooner or later he would talk and I was about to prevent it. But Snake stopped me.” She ran her hand over the the blanket, smoothing it just a time more than needed. It was a harsh fabric, but still better than the fleas filled coverings her compas had back in the mountains.

“At the end Snake saved him but even then, it was too late.”

She stepped back from the bed, straight to the girl by the door.

“So, he offered him a new life and look where it got him. Where it got us all.”

She stood tall in front of the girl, looking straight in her eyes.

“Self pity doesn’t suit you, Amanda.” Now she spoke like a woman. Not the girl she used to play on. She went straight from Ingénue to Lady Macbeth. “Not when you still have things to fight for.”

“Is this how you motivate people now?”

“I motivate people the way that works. But if you prefer to be motivated like a reeking mercenary, be my guest.”

Amanda liked the change. She saw a spirit in her, that she did not see before. This woman held herself confidently enough to hold a rifle. This woman was just taken down and stood up already.

“And that is?”

She could see the irony in her eyes, when she took a deep breath.

 _“_ _Aprendimos a quererte,_  
 _desde la histórica altura,_ _  
_donde el sol de tu bravura~”

“I didn’t hear you sing that one before.”

“How could you? A peace loving schoolgirl could not know such a song as Hasta Siempre, could she?”

“Then I thought, you were giving me a farewell.”

“Maybe I was, Comandante.”

She lifted her hand to Amanda’s face. She let her. Why wouldn’t she let a dangerous traitor touch her like that.

To her surprise no deadly treason came.

She just held her face.

“Maybe I know just know where’s the safest place for me.”

Of course she did. Why else would she be here. The hospital was full of men, who blamed her for their fall.

“I won’t be your protection forever, Paz.” She said. “You might be safe with me now, but you know I can’t let you go. You are still a traitor for the MSF and for my compas.“

“Then a bullet from you will hurt less than one from vengeful men.”

The hand on her cheek moved to the back of her head. She knew what was to come, even before Paz leaned forward.

Their lips met and the kiss was slow. Slow enough for her to reconsider. But why would she? Her actions were her own. She will regret them later, same as many others. Her world just broke under her, why wouldn’t she drown her despair in a pair of blue eyes and soft lips.

Maybe not soft, but they were still pretty.

She will always do better than Kazuhira, who snorted coke and drank in the other room to get rid of the same problem.

She assumed Paz was trying to pay herself out of the death sentence. She prefered it to the version that she thought of it as a redemption arc that Paz may just be trying to pay back what Amanda lost. The same way she did for her brother.

Paz’s hand took hers and led it to her breast. Amanda knew it was wrong, but she still enjoyed the touch. She let herself clean her mind and focus only on the moment. There will be time to mourn later. Those gentle touches were all it took to forget for now. She now understood those soldiers, who spend all their money on whores, the pleasure really was enough to forget one’s sorrows for a while. It was a cheap fun for long regrets.

Maybe she should say no. Maybe she should not let a raped girl touch her like that. But why. In her world, there was nothing as woman solidarity, only a pain so common, it feels mutual. She waited until Paz parted her lips enough to let her in her mouth, she met her tongue in a light kiss. There was no need for a brutal hurry, nor vengeful aggression, she could save that for the battlefield. Right now they both needed much different.

Both of them had feelings they wanted to forget for now. That was the way she wanted to think of it.

She was genuinely surprised when she felt cold hands slip under shirt. Sliding all the way up around her waist, until it reached her breast.

Paz kissed her back with bigger credit she would ever give her. But she never gave her much credit. The kiss continued, as Paz cupped her breasts in her palms. The cold fingers around it felt strange, but it was far from unpleasant.

She let out a hushed moan, when Paz’s trembling fingers started caressing her nipples. The sensation it brought her was barely rare, but she was still grateful for it.

In return, she moved her hand across Paz’s abdomen, straight to her crotch. After all, she was the leader here. She palmed her through the fabric. The thin wave of pleasure covering her troubled mind broke over the reality, when she touched the bandages there.

“I heard men joke about how they should have let Chico take it out.” She felt wetness through the fabric. “His small hands would do it better they said. I wanted to kill them on a spot, but Miller was there first.”

A childish like laugh came from Paz and it made her wonder, how much of her was a roleplay and how much of it was really her. Maybe she was always like that. After all, she was nothing but a stranger, who lied them all and brought the doom upon their door. She was the Judith stories warned her about and if Amanda wasn't careful, it was going to cost her head. Just as it did Snake. Just as it did Chico.

Lost in her thoughts she let her hand press on her just a little too hard. Paz tensed, but didn't pull away. But Amanda could feel her legs tremble. She wondered why she didn’t pull away yet. Was it because she couldn't find the strength to fight or that she didn't want to oppose her? Maybe it was just another performance. But what it did matter to Amanda.

She didn't want to hurt her more than she already was. She wasn’t that kind of person. She removed her hand from her crotch. It left finger shaped marks on her gown, just as Amanda’s own fingers, they were bloody.

She wiped her hand on it. It was ruined anyway and the hospital personal surely knew worse.

“That’s one plan ruined.” She said to Paz.

“That doesn’t matter.” Her voice was so soft, she was truly a great actor.

Paz took her hand and nodded towards an empty bed. There used to lay a soldier there. He was not here now. They didn’t move anyone in the bed yet, which implied he was still somewhere around the hospital. At least no one died on it recently then.

As soon as she sat on it, Paz met her lips again. Amanda pushed her down on the bed. She moved her attention to the less damaged part of her. She pulled up her gown and lowered to kiss her breast, aware of the irony of bending in front of a traitor. The soft moans coming from Paz were as true as anything else. It hasn't been that long, since she was with a woman, but much longer, since she was with one as delicate. Her supposed agent training left no marks upon her, unlike Amanda’s own. It was just another aspect of their many differences.

A hand ran through her hair. “A-amanda.” She sounded like a siren, singing her sweet songs. Maybe that was not so far from a truth. After all, she  did sing on the ocean, surrounded mostly by men and there was no one able to resist her.

Not to mention that many of them drowned thanks to her.

Some say that female sailors hear the siren’s song differently than men. That they hear it as a baby’s cry.

It was a misogynic bullshit.

The hands tangled in her hair tightened and made her lift her head, moving it for yet another kiss. Then they continued down her body, until they reached her pants, touching what they could reach of her ass under them.

“Let me-" Paz managed to say. Amanda understood her gesture. She straightened on the bed and pulled her pants down, along with her underwear. She laid down on Paz’s side, as she kicked them down to her boots.

Paz spared no time, with running her hands all over her again. This time between her legs. In response Amanda spread them to give her the access she asked for. She kissed her neck as the slim fingers got where they headed. It was her time to quieten herself, as they caressed her clit. She buried her moans deep in Paz’s neck.

When two fingers slipped inside her, she had a hard time muffling her surprise. She had a hard time believing Paz’s skill, as she fingered her. Thumb kept on her clit while she moved her fingers inside her just the right way.

She kissed her again.

It hasn't been so long since she got laid, but it has been too long, since it was accompanied by such a comfort. Since she was as relaxed. It was almost ironic. As her life was torn apart, she happened to experience the best fuck in a long time from the literal hands of her enemy.

Paz seemed to know all the right places to touch her on. She led her now free hand to her nipple again.

And again, it wasn't the first time she came with tears in her eyes. But it was for the first time she meant them.

Paz’s fingers stayed inside her, not changing their pace, it had to be her to pull away from her. Leaving her laying on the bed, Amanda stood up to put her pants back on. She avoided looking at her brother as much as she could. But she couldn't run forever. Time was relevant for a revolutionary and it should not be wasted.

Right now. She wasted it because of her weakness.

Once she looked at him, she regretted. His body was stiller than before and she was afraid to come closer, so she just stood there. Watching. Until still wet hand touched her own.  
“It's okay, Amanda. It will get better. Mothering would bring you no respect from your men anyway.”

That finally tore her eyes of her brother’s body. What a harsh philosophy for such a kind voice. Paz sat on the bed, the blood stain around her thighs seemed to expand.

Amanda gave her no answer for a while. Sooner or later she will have to kill her. Her honour wouldn’t let her go unpunished and so wouldn’t the MSF. Or what was left of it. Her compas will watch her put down a traitor, as if she was nothing but a misbehaved dog. It will be a prove, that there’s no place for disloyalty under her command. She wasn't a weak leader and everyone who ever doubted will soon learn. Even if there's a price to pay first.

“He betrayed us twice.” She said at last. “I couldn’t pardon him, not with so much of my compas dead. But you could have died together. He would have found comfort in that.”

Where have all the graveyards gone?  
Long time passing  
Where have all the graveyards gone?  
Long time ago  
Where have all the graveyards gone?  
Gone with flowers every one  
 _When will they ever learn?  
_ When will they ever learn?


End file.
